Dear Percy
by iam.mattevans
Summary: Letters Oliver writes to Percy after his death. Bittersweet memories, love, pain, coping. Warnings for suicide. Post Battle of Hogwarts.
1. Chapter 1

Dear Percy.

God. This is really hard. I have written all over five rolls of parchment just trying to start this letter, only to always realise it sounded stupid and lame and crumpling it to pieces and trowing it in the trash. It would have been way more melodramatic to just throw the papers on the floor, but you always hated mess, and I respect that, you know. Even now, when you are gone.

Anyway. I was trying to tell you how hard it is. You not being here. Did you know how much pain will you cause me when you decided to do it? How much I will miss you? I wonder if a person can possibly hate someone while loving them at the same time. Because I love you so much that it hurts, too. Jesus, you were my whole world. You have no idea. But I am honest when I say that I have never stopped loving you, and that my love didn't grow any weaker over the years we had together. And at the same time I kind of hate you for leaving me in this mess. For refusing to fight. For giving up. On yourself, on life, on us. How can I not be? We said we would spend the rest of our lives together, and I just never imagined it would mean such a short time. We were supposed to grow old together, remember? That is what you used to say. So how can I not take this as a complete betrayal? Didn't you love me enough to stay? What would have needed to change for you to… well, it doesn't matter. Whatever I do now, I cannot bring you back. And would you want to come back if I could?

Can you even see me from wherever you are now? Because I wish I could see you, too. I miss you so much it makes me want to throw up. I just never thought not having you here would hurt so much.

But then, maybe I deserve the pain after all. I didn't take good enough care of you after the war. I should have been home more. I shouldn't have left you alone. I shouldn't have gone to practise that day. If I stayed, you would never have had the chance to do this.

I have nightmares now, too. I still remember when I was on my way home and had the strangest feeling that something was wrong, so I hurried a bit. But I was late anyway, wasn't I? God, I will never forget the sight that met my eyes when I opened the door. I never realised one person could possibly bleed so much. There was blood everywhere, the white bathroom completely swimming in red. And you were lying in the middle of all this, barely breathing. The moment I saw you I knew there was nothing I could do. It was too late, you would never have made it to 's anyway. You died in my arms minutes later. I never even got the chance to say goodbye.

How is this fair? Noone should have to bury the one they love, not in this way. It was too cruel, too soon after the war. I thought we were safe. I thought it was going to get better. I didn't know things could be worse than they already were.

How very wrong I was.

I just never really imagined losing you. We were meant to be. We both knew it, even other people knew it and told us many times. How could life be so cruel? How could you?

Uh. I am thinking only about myself now. And I know it is selfish. I am sorry. I tried to understand again and again in just how much pain you possibly must have been, but I couldn't. I don't think anyone who never felt this kind of pain would be able to understand. But I understand you now. Is that perhaps why you did it? To make me see, realise?

I have felt the pain you must have been feeling. And to be honest, I do not know how you could take it. I can't. I think of doing what you did every single day. Because pain must end with death, right? And I would see you again. I'd like that.

But I am too much of a coward. First I thought you were the weak one for succumbing to your demons, but I don't think so anymore. It takes much more strength to actually decide to do it, to end it. Surviving day by day like an empty shell, however… That is pure cowardice. I feel like I am neither here nor there. Because I am not really alive, not in this state. I barely ever leave the apartment. I am saving your clothes with your smell on it, and only allow myself to hug one of your shirts once in a while, because the smell goes away so quickly, and with every piece of clothes that no longer smells like you I feel I am losing you more and more. As though you are slipping through my fingers. What will I do when your presence completely disappears from the apartment?

It took me all the strength I had (and I didn't have much of it at that time) even to clean up the blood from the bathroom. I still see it there, though, whenever I go there, so I try to avoid it. I brush my teeth at the sink now. It would probably make you cringe real hard, using the same place for dishes and washing myself!

I miss you, Percy. Did I say that? I feel so lonely now. I haven't seen anyone in weeks. I don't open the doors to anyone. I don't leave the building. I don't go to practise. I don't eat. I don't do anything much, really. I wish there was something to distract me from the gaping hole in my chest where you used to be. I've tried flying, but even that had lost its appeal. So now I mostly just lie in bed, waiting for the sun to come up and then come down, and surviving like this, day by day. It isn't much of a life. I no longer want to live. I don't want a life without you in it.

Yours forever,

Oliver


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Percy.

Do you remember our first kiss?

It was in our sixth year, and we were playing one of those stupid games after we won a Quidditch match. Well, you weren't, of course. You never participated in those, thinking they were childish. Which they were, of course, only you never seemed to get that was why we liked them so much. That day Angelina dared me to kiss you. I don't know whether she saw something in us even before we came to realise, or maybe she was just being mean. And I did it. I just walked up to you, sitting in an armchair in the corner reading a book (though I still think you were secretly watching us) and I kissed you. You looked so upset. You just gave me a look I wasn't able to decipher and you ran off into our dormitory. I was so worried I had crossed a line in that moment, worried that you would no longer speak to me for invading your privacy in such a brutal fashion. Because you were always very guarded, always careful and you kept to yourself so much. I bet your privacy meant everything to you, and I shattered it. So I raced to the dormitory after you, wanting to make sure we were still friends. If you could have called us that at the time.

You were lying in your bed still fully clothed, and I was pleased that you didn't draw your hangings around you.

"Percy? I'm sorry I did that. I shouldn't have dragged you into that stupid game. Are you alright?"

You didn't reply. You didn't even look at me. And at that moment, I really thought I blew everything. That you would never speak to me again. I was on the point of walking back into the common room when you finally said something.

"Why don't you have a girlfriend, Oliver? You are popular, really good-looking, funny… Girls must be fighting to be with you," you trailed off, looking confusedly at me.

"You think I'm good-looking?" I asked, jokingly, and you blushed crimson.

"I didn't mean it like that," you stammered.

"Well… I think the reason why I don't have a girlfriend is because I don't like girls. I'm gay, Percy."

"Oh." You just said. And you stared at the ceiling, still looking more confused than ever.

"Why do you ask?" I said.

"Because I think I might be like you."

"What? Aren't you dating that Ravenclaw chick, though?"

You sat up and looked at me, now annoyed. "Her name is Penelope, Oliver," you reprimanded me. "Please don't call her 'that Ravenclaw chick.'"

"So why do you think you might be gay?"

"When you kissed me back there in the common room, it was as though you awoke something in me. I've never felt this way when kissing Penny."

You were talking about it so academically it made me laugh. You found the whole situation so confusing and intriguing you didn't even manage to be embarrassed about discussing you potential attraction to guys with a bloke you were barely friends with.

"Well, do you wanna know for sure?" I asked.

"How?"

"Kiss me," I said. I knew that was how I found out, anyway. It either makes you feel something, or it doesn't. And then you just know.

"I've already kissed you, Oliver," you retorted. "Like half an hour ago, if you don't remember?"

"No, you haven't. I've kissed you. You didn't kiss me back."

You sighed, but you got off your bed and walked up to me anyway. All for the name of science, I suppose.

And you did kiss me, then. I won't pretend I didn't like it. I always thought you were hot, it's those damn Weasley genes. And in that moment it felt as though we were already dating, as though you were mine. And it was wonderful.

But then we broke apart and we both looked as the bulge that had formed in your pants.

"You are gay, Percy," I said, grinning.

You blushed and covered it up with your hands. "Geez. I'm so sorry."

You were so embarrassed it was cute.

"Don't be. I take it as a compliment."

You looked as though someone had hit you over the head with a club.

"I guess I better break up with Penny," you choked out, and it made me laugh.

"Good. And when you've done that, we should go on a date."

"Oliver," you looked at me, exasperated. "Just because we are both gay doesn't mean we have to be dating. Besides, you don't even like me. You wouldn't look twice at me if we hadn't just…"

"You are wrong," I said, grinning. "I do like you."

You looked up, surprised, but I was on my way out already, pleased with how wonderfully things had turned out.

"Goodnight, Perce."

And everything happened just as we had said. You broke up with Penelope, and honest as you've always been, you probably told her the reason was because you were going on a date with me, which I wish I would have heard you say and see her reaction. And we did go on a date, making the first few weeks after that sleeping together in the dormitory really awkward. But it was all worth it. Every second of it.

See, now the parchment is all botched because I am smiling and crying at the same time. I miss those memories. I miss you. You were never supposed to leave like this. I love you so much.

Yours forever,

Oliver


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Percy.

It's your birthday today. I went to see you. It's been ages since I even left the apartment, and I should probably go visit you more often. I hope you forgive me. I just find it too hard to go to that terrible place, to see and think of your body lying there rotting without you being in it. I can't bear it.

The day was lovely, as though somebody was mocking me and my miserable mood, and your grave was covered in tiny blue flowers. I think Ginny must have planted them there. It looked beautiful.

If you were here, you would have been twenty-two. I had big plans for your birthday, you know. Wanted to take you out to the aquarium, because you loved sharks, and then we would have gone to our favourite place to eat. But you are not here. You'll always be twenty-one now. Forever.

I was thinking a lot about this, and I don't think anymore that you wanted to do it. You would have left a note. You wouldn't leave me like this, without saying goodbye. After you were gone, I felt like there was little I was sure about you anymore. But I know that much. You loved me as much as I loved you. That's why we were so good together.

Maybe you just cut a little deeper than usual by accident. Maybe your hand slipped and you were too weak to fix it, or to call for help. I know that towards the end you were feeling so depressed you were having trouble with magic. I cannot stop the guilty feelings from coming, though, because if I'd been there I could have helped you. I could have saved you. If I'd only left practise a little early that day… Ah. I could go on like this forever.

Your presence is slowly disappearing from the apartment. It terrifies me. The sheets stopped smelling of you, and I ran out of the coffee you used to buy. I never asked you where you were getting it from, so I cannot buy any more. It wouldn't be the same anyway, even if I could. You wouldn't have touched it. And without your touch it would just be… coffee. God, I never even liked coffee. But it's different now you are gone, because its smell reminds me of you. And I desperately hold on to everything that links you to this place, to me. I cannot let you go. Can you feel just how much I am hurting? How much I need you here? I hope you can't, because I don't want to cause you even more pain than you already had. I hope you are at peace now.

Noone ever blamed you for Fred's death, you know. But you blamed yourself, and that was probably even worse. It's just so unfair. They treated all the injured at st Mungos after the war, but what about those whose wounds were invisible? Those who were hurting without open wounds? Just because you cannot see it it doesn't mean it isn't real. So why doesn't magic know how to help with these? We can mend broken bones in a second but cannot help those who suffer on the inside. Why has nobody ever done anything about this? I wonder just how many others are hurting the same way you were.

Anyway. I was talking about your birthday. I had a surprise planned for you, you know. I wanted to ask you something. But I never got the chance. I brought the ring with me and placed it on your grave, because you I thought should know. I wanted to ask you to be mine forever. That is how much you meant to me. Did you know?

Sometimes, when I was really down, I imagined that maybe you found the ring in my drawer and that's why you killed yourself. Stupid thoughts. I shouldn't be thinking that. You didn't do it on purpose, did you? You didn't really mean to leave me. I know you didn't.

"He would have said yes," said a voice behind me as I placed the ring on your grave. I didn't notice your mother had been watching me. She stood at a distance with some flowers. Probably wanted to see you on your birthday as well. It's only natural I suppose.

I didn't know what to say. I just sat there by your side and cried like an idiot. She came nearer and sat beside me.

"He loved you very much. Anyone could have told just from watching the two of you. He looked at you like you put the stars in the sky, Oliver. He wrote to me about you from Hogwarts, you know. I still have the letter."

"He did?"

She smiled. "Half of the letter was him begging me not to tell Fred and George for fear they would make fun of you both, especially with you being their Quidditch captain. He didn't want you to take the blow, he was so worried about this. And then he proceeded to say: 'Mother, I know this will come as a shock to you, but I have broken up with Penelope. I came to realise that I desire different things in life. That being said - and please do not take this badly - I feel the need to inform you that I may be homosexual. I have developed feelings for a classmate of mine, and I don't think they are going to go away, because it is nothing like I what ever felt with Penny. You may have heard about him previously from Fred or George, as they are in the Gryffindor Quidditch team together. His name is Oliver. He is kind and has the most beautiful smile. I am sure you would like him, too. I hope you are well, and father. Percy'"

I smiled a little at that. "That sounds just like him. He always used this pompous tone when talking to other people. He never talked this way to me, though. At least not since we started dating. With me, he was just… Perce. Intelligent. Funny. Sarcastic, even. I liked it much better when he wasn't so guarded."

She then placed the flowers on your grave and patted my shoulder. "I am so glad he had you. He changed completely when he was around you. You made him so much happier."

"Why didn't he stay, then?"

Why didn't you, Perce? I miss you.

Yours forever,

Oliver


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Percy.

Do you remember when my parents died? We were in our sixth year and I had already turned seventeen, though you hadn't. It was some time after we started dating, I think, but the time seems blurry now. We were mid breakfast when the post arrived, and I got an official looking envelope. It made my stomach turn just looking at it. What had happened? Did I perhaps do something against the law?

But it wasn't anything like that. It was a letter explaining that when my father experimented with some spells he made a mistake and the whole house blew up. And that him, my mother and my sister had all died in the accident.

I forgot to breathe when I first read the letter. I didn't want to believe it. How could I have had a family a day ago and now be an orphan? We didn't have any larger family, there wasn't anyone. It was just us. And then, all of a sudden, I was alone. I didn't have anybody in the whole world.

I felt sick. I ran off into the nearest bathroom and threw up as soon as I got into a cubicle. My head was spinning. What was I going to do? Where was I going to go when school ended? I was officially an adult now, there wasn't anyone required to take care of me. But I had been used to being taken care of. Of course I was. I was used to having parents to whom I could have always turned for help. Until then.

I didn't go to classes that day. I just went up to the dormitory and lay on the bed, crying like a small kid. I didn't even notice when you walked in until you spoke.

"Oliver? What is going on, Oliver? What happened during breakfast?" you said.

"Go away, Percy," I spat back at you. I was distraught and felt humiliated you had seen me cry. "Go and make fun of me together with the others."

But you didn't go anywhere. You sat down on the bed beside me.

"Ollie," you placed a hand on my shoulder. "What happened? Come on, you can talk to me."

It was the first time you ever called me that.

"They are dead," I just said, hardly coherent. And before you could have asked anything else, I pushed the ministry letter towards you. You picked it up gingerly and read it.

"Oh, Ollie." That was all you managed to say. And then you curled up on the bed next to me and hugged me tightly.

"I have no one now," I choked out in between sobs as you held me. "They are all dead. I have nowhere to go."

"You still have me. I'll always be here for you. And don't worry about not having a place to stay. When school ends, you can go to our place. My parents are great, they will love you, I am sure. They'll help you get an apartment or something in town. You don't need to worry, Ollie."

"You would do that for me?"

You laughed softly at that. "I would do anything for you. I love you, you idiot."

"What?" I said hoarsely.

"I'm sorry, I know now is not the time. Forget I said that."

"No," I shook my head. "I won't forget it. That's a big deal, Perce." I couldn't see into your face the way I was lying, so I turned around to face you. "I love you, too. I really do."

You just stared at me, tears streaming down your face, also.

"I am so sorry about your family, Oliver. But you are not alone. You'll never be alone. I won't allow it. I'll be your family from now on. We'll find an apartment together after school ends, what do you say?"

"But what about your parents? Don't you want to live with them?"

"I've lived with them my whole life. I'll be seventeen in August. I'll be an adult. And everyone at the Burrow will probably be glad there is some more space when I move out. My parents have four more of my siblings they need to take care of. It'll be fine."

And I finally stopped crying. "Okay," I just said. And then: "That sounds great."

If I had been less preoccupied, I would have noticed you had missed all of your lessons that day, too. For me.

It didn't happen exactly the way we had planned. The school didn't allow you to visit my family's funerals with me, so I had to go there alone. It was the worst day of my life, having to face all of those people, being the only one left. Having them shake my hand or pat my shoulder telling me how sorry they were. It didn't even matter whether they were being sincere, I hated the whole thing. It reminded me to vividly of the fact that I was alone now. Wild thoughts were racing through my head at the time. Maybe I should have died with them? It surely would have made things easier.

But then I went back to school and life seemed almost normal for a while. And we did go to your place at the beginning of the summer holidays. You didn't move in with me, though, your mother having convinced you to stay. But you spent most of your time with me in the new apartment anyway. And then, two years later, you had an argument with your dad. And you moved in with me then. I felt a bit of a grudge that this was needed for you to leave your home and want to live with me. But it didn't matter, really. You were right when you told me we will be a family from now on. We were. You were my everything, Percy. And I finally felt I gained something I was missing ever since my parents and sister died.

But you are gone now, and I am all alone again. Maybe I should get used to it. The fact people leave me. The fact they never stay, no matter how much they promise otherwise?

Ah. I'm sorry. My sadness is overtaking again. I just miss you. I wish you were here. Life sucks without you.

Yours forever,

Oliver


	5. Chapter 5

Dear Percy.

It's been months since I last wrote. The summer rolled over and now it's cold outside. Winter is coming.

Remember the one time when the radiator broke down and we would lay huddled together for warmth? You were so annoyed about it, saying we would not pay rent that month as a reprimand, but I enjoyed it. It was great being so close to you, I always enjoyed every second of it, even after years of being with you. Now the apartment is back to being dark and cold and I have no one to warm me up. I miss you.

I've slept with Mark from the team. I didn't go to the last practise so he came over with a bottle, trying to make sure I was alright - which I'm not, of course. How could I be? I'll never be really okay again, I think. Anyway, we drank the whiskey he brought and I don't even know how it happened, suddenly he was kissing me and taking off my clothes and I just… let him.

It was a stupid thing to do, one of the stupidest things I've ever done in life. But I'm just so lonely. I only wished for someone to hold me, to feel someone else's body heat, to have company for a little while.

Now I feel even worse than before, because apart from all the other miserable feelings I have, I also feel guilty for betraying you in such a way. Will you forgive me? I know I shouldn't have done this. But you are not here. What am I supposed to do? It just hurts so much to have this empty hole in my chest and I feel I was trying so desperately to fill it with something that I ended up with Mark. The thought of him sleeping on your side of the bed is still making me sick. I am so sorry, Percy. I wonder how others would look at me if they knew what I've done. Probably loathe me the same way I now loathe myself. Talk behind my back about how you deserved someone better. Which of course you did. You deserved the world. I shouldn't have let you down like this. I've been stupid.

He told me he had a thing for me ever since I joined the team. I don't know how that was supposed to make me feel. Did that mean he's been waiting all these years for you to just disappear so he could have me? That I would suddenly fall into his arms after your death?

But I did fall into his arms. So maybe he calculated this well. Oh god. This should never have happened. The thought of it makes my stomach turn. I never want to see him again. I don't think I can go back to practise after this. I haven't been going for a while now since it happened. But I'm seriously considering quitting the team. Quidditch has lost all it's appeal anyway, with you gone. Most things have. What is the point in flying or winning a match when you are no longer there to watch me do all these things? When I have nobody to celebrate it with, nobody to tell me off for being out flying in the rain for too long.

I've been in a bad state. I still see you all around the apartment. Every time I close my eyes I can see you sitting next to me on the sofa reading your book. But then I open my eyes and you are gone. And it hurts. I miss you so badly.

I didn't know what to do, so I tried what you used to do. Cutting into my arm with diffindo. How simple. And however much I hated you doing that, you always insisted it was really helping you. That with each cut you managed to heal a bit within. Rubbish.

I know now, I tried. And I don't understand how you could have done this so much. It fucking hurts, Percy! And it doesn't help with the inner pain, either. It just adds up. Plus the blood and the smell and the contrast of the red on white reminded me too vividly of you. Of all the nights when I woke up sensing rather than seeing what was going on, knowing you have left the bed. I knew, Percy. I knew for a long time before I ever confronted you. And I always just sat in bed, quietly so you wouldn't hear I was awake, and I listened to you crying in the bathroom, watched your shadow and imagined what horrible things you were doing to yourself that very moment.

Now I wish I stopped you. I should have been more persistent, should have yelled at you and wrestle the wand out of your bloody hands. God, I should have broken it. Broken my wand, too, if it would have stopped you from hurting yourself. What would you have done then? Use a knife? I doubt that.

But I just sat there night by night and listened. And it hurt. What can you do when someone you love is in so much pain? I wish I knew.

I talked to Katie recently. Katie Bell, from our old Quidditch team. She was a couple of years below us. Remember her? She is in a bad way, too. Hasn't gotten over what happened during the war. She's lost so much weight I almost didn't recognise her when I met her. She noticed the scars on my arms and instead of saying something, she just showed me hers. She burns herself, Percy. And we just sat there in the café like two complete losers, not talking, just looking at each other and contemplating all the things we had in common. All the pain, the wounds, the lost ones. She said she still wakes up screaming, seeing the faces of the men she killed in the battle. Said she didn't know she had it in her. And now doesn't know who she is anymore. I don't blame her. Hardly any of us know.

I just wish there was something we could do. Jesus, half the people who fought in that battle were children! How are we all supposed to just forget and move on, live a happy life because you-know-who is dead? He is dead alright but just how many went with him? And how many will follow still? I am worried Katie might kill herself, too. She looked close to doing it, anyway. But maybe she would have done it already if that was the case. Though I don't know if this slow form of self-destruction of hers is any better.

But you know, talking to Katie or just being silent with her shifted something in me. I didn't mind being with her, because she knows. She understands the things I am feeling. And she doesn't judge me for it, nor does she try to use it to her advantage in any way. It was just… Something like comfort. Maybe I'll see her again sometime. I think she could use it, too.

Yours forever,

Oliver


	6. Chapter 6

Dear Percy.

Sometimes I wonder whether you'll be waiting for me until my time comes, too. What if you won't? What if you move on without me, wherever you are? Because I don't think I am ever going to move on. I will never love anybody else. There is no one like you. I won't even bother looking. We had a special thing going on, growing up together and all that. We knew everything about each other. It may sound scary to some people, but there was comfort in the knowledge. We didn't have to pretend to be someones we were not. We could just be… us. I could have talked about Quidditch for hours on end and you wouldn't get bored, you would go to my matches and cheer on my team, you would help me with my work when you sensed I was putting too much energy into training and not enough into school. And you could have studied or worked without being disturbed, the two of us sitting on the sofa, our legs tangled on the coffee table. I don't think we could have had all that with anybody else.

I miss those moments. God, I even miss the fights we used to have. I curse the mistakes that we'll never make, the pictures of trips that we'll never take, all those things we had planned and never got 'round to actually doing them. Why didn't we? We should have realised we had so little time. We should have used it better. Make love more often and argue less.

I spend a lot of time with Katie lately. We even reached out to some other people who were active in the war or have lost someone, and a surprising number of them were willing to meet us. There was the Creevy kid and his father, too, who is a milkman, there was Angelina, Lavender's brother Jamie Brown, Davis, and some people I didn't even know. George didn't come, though. I heard he spends all his time just shut up in his room, laying on the bed, staring into the ceiling. I'm sorry. I honestly cannot imagine how your parents must be feeling, having lost two of their sons so shortly apart from each other. And you having just made up with the family.

We met in one of those pubs that no one seems to visit, just so we wouldn't be disturbed. And we just talked. It felt good. So many of the people who came had their own stories of how they are trying to cope. And few of them were very successful. But I think it helped everyone to be there, just to have a reason to leave the house perhaps, or to know there were others feeling the same way they were. We are going to do this again. I think it might be of some use, even though we were not really doing anything too productive there. But I suppose these are not the times for productivity. I know some tried to bury their pain underneath loads of work, trying to rebuild the world we have so very nearly lost. But it doesn't work for me, and I don't believe it works for them, either. It is just pushing the pain deeper still. But it remains there, and it will need to go away in someway, sometime.

I left Puddlemere. I couldn't take facing them again, not with what had happened, and not when winning the league is so far from my priorities right now. I know you always supported me so much in my ambitions to play Quidditch professionally, and I hope you are not too disappointed with me giving it up. I still love Quidditch, but I don't think I will ever be able to play it again, at least not for living.

We went to a match with Katie last week. It was great, we almost laughed when the Canons' beater struck Williamson on the nose with his club. Almost.

But it feels nice spending time with her. I think it helps her, too. We don't talk much about what had happened. Sometimes we are silent, or we share stories from Hogwarts. Did you know she once kissed Marcus Flint? I didn't believe her when she first told me.

Your mother went to see me, recently. I don't know why she came, actually. It was rather odd. But maybe she needs someone to talk to about you, too, or maybe she can sense how badly I am coping.

"What are you going to do during the holidays?" she asked me.

At first I didn't even know what she was talking about, being so lost in what time of the year it was, but then it dawned on me. Christmas is getting nearer.

"Nothing," I said. "I'm just going to be home."

"You should be with the family," she told me, frowning.

I smiled sadly at that. Didn't she know?

"I have no family. My parents are dead. My sister is dead." I hesitated. "Percy is dead."

She looked at me curiously.

"We are your family, Oliver. You were with Percy. You belong with us."

I broke down when she told me that, and she hugged me. It's been ages since someone held me like that. It made me cry even harder.

I still don't know whether I'm going to go. I fear facing George. I somehow don't know what to say to him. The fact that you died because of Fred's death is weirdly hanging between us. It's not like I blame Fred for it. The only one I blame is myself, for not watching you closely enough. But George probably thinks I do. And I don't want to make things awkward, or to intrude on your family and their grief, having to celebrate the first Christmas after they lost two of their midsts.

I love you, Percy. I wish you were here.

Yours forever,

Oliver


End file.
